Regret
by Jade Rotaski Queen of the Damned
Summary: On his quest to kill the nine Templars and redeem himself of his sins, Altair thinks about Kadar's death, how he truly feels about it and how he's coping with the sins committed against the brotherhood. Basicaly me digging in Altair's brain, no pairings.


Regret

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><p>Altair looked at the horizon of Jerusalem with a soft sigh, the view from the roof of the mosque was beautiful, the golden sun shined down on the crowded city, bathing it in a light that was warm and pure...but Altair felt anything but warm.<p>

His golden eyes flicked downwards as he watched the people below go about their daily lives so naïve of the war they were in the middle of...Altiar almost wished he were that naïve, that free. The assassin shook his head at such thoughts; no, he had been born into the brotherhood, he had been born to be raised as and assassin to uphold the laws of the Creed.

Something he had already failed at.

The former master assassin brushed his fingers over his eyes as if trying to rub away sleep; the hood didn't reveal the weary look in his eyes, the tiredness he felt; he may have been spared death by Al Maulim, but in all honesty the demoted assassin wished he was dead already; and if he felt this bad what did Malik feel? How could he possibly feel worse?

Altair sighed softly; Malik...he'd have to face the other for the second time; it was his second visit to Jerusalem since Al Maulim had given him the opportunity to raise in the ranks and become a Master assassin once again, and as such Altair had not wasted his time; he would redeem himself one way or another.

But that didn't mean it was easy.

Kadar's death had hit him harder than even Altiar had expected; Malik's grief and loss was as clear as a cloudless sky; he hated Altair, loathed his very presence and he knew that he became aggravated every time Altair had to meet with the recently appointed Rafiq; Malik blamed him for abandoning them, for leaving him and his brother to rot and Altair could say or do nothing in his defence; in a way he felt he deserved the hatred; that being demoted to a novice was not enough to atone for his sins.

He was tired but no one could see it, no one knew that he woke up silently screaming as he imagined Kadar's death in a thousand different and bloody ways, same for the deaths of other assassins that had been murdered when he had returned to Masayf and the raid that had followed because of negligence...but Altiar alas, he had too much pride, he was too stubborn, he didn't let anyone know that he would barely eat, and that his own thoughts were enough to make him throw up whatever he had managed to force down his throat.

He couldn't rest, he could not find peace, he couldn't eat and he would not stop, he had to kill these men and then perhaps when the horrid deed was done, he'd gain some peace, perhaps then his sins would be at last laid to rest and Kadar would finally stop haunting him. Perhaps then Malik would look at him with more respect than hatred...perhaps his fellow brothers and sisters would not whisper behind his back, muttering dark and callous rumours.

But Altair doubted it.

The former master assassin was no fool; the nightmares, the sleep deprivation, the starvation; it was because above all else, he loathed himself far more than Malik ever could; he felt the need to punish himself, not to the point of death; no, he was no good to anyone if he let himself die, but punishing himself enough to remind him that everything he did, he did for Malik, that he did it for Kadar, that this suffering was deserved until he was redeemed in the eyes of the brotherhood and of Malik himself.

Altair looked down at the stack of hay far below him; he had always been the most eager to fly when he'd been a novice; when he had been a child and the assassin trainers had asked for volunteers he'd been the first one to go, pulling Malik along with him, and when he jumped, he'd felt a thrill unlike anything he'd ever felt before; the wind billowing through his hair, the feel of weightlessness, and for one moment and only that moment, it was like he really was flying...then reality and gravity returned as he plunging downward into the soft hay. The assassin allowed himself to smile, to indulge in a small memory of a much happier time, of him and Malik laughing together in the hay now they'd taken their first leap of faith.

Oh Allah how he wished it could be like that now...

Altair blinked as he felt something wet sliding down his cheek; confused he raised his head to the sky but there were no clouds to be seen and rain wasn't expected for days, Altair swiped the wetness from his numb face still confused; he hadn't been crying, assassin's didn't cry.

But he was.

Altair grit his teeth; assassins did not embrace emotion! They did not cry like women! But the harder he tried to push the feeling that was rising up his chest away, the harder it was to ignore it. He let out a soft choked sob that only the birds could hear, as he placed on hand over his eyes and let tears slid down his face. "I'm sorry" he whispered to himself, his voice cracking with an emotion he would not show to others, the words getting lost in the wind.

If only an apology was all it took to make up for his mistakes...

Altair took deep breaths as he slowly let the feeling pass as he calmed down, wiping his eyes he stood slowly on the rafters; taking a deep breath he spread his arms; and jumped; there would be no more delaying, no more pauses.

He fell safely into the bale of hay on the floor; after a moment of savouring the sweet small of fresh hay and resisting the urge to try and sleep in it, he slipped out of the pile of hay and made his way to the assassin bureau.

He wanted to avoid Malik, but he knew in the end such things were impossible, he would have to walk into the bureau and listen to Malik, feel the heat of his rage, of his hate, his blood lust and want to cut the other down where he stood; but it was barely controlled at his mere presence and the former master assassin knew it. Altair would stand there and take every dirty word, every insult, because Kadar's death was his sin, his blood and many other assassin's blood was on his hands.

"...Safety and peace Malik" Altair greeted Malik as he usually did forcing himself to sound at least normal, something the other didn't appreciate, his mouth set into a thin frown his eyes glaring nothing bit hate at the assassin before him.

"I will have neither with you hounding me; what is it you want novice!" He bit out, his tongue lashing out at the other like a cruel and stinging whip, Altair took in a harsh breath "Master Al Maulim sent me to kill Majd Addin the ruler of this city, I hear he is a harsh leader and gives out cruel punishments, he is also working for the Templars" He said softly.

"Humph! The city has been in chaos since he took over from Saladin, he indeed rules with fear and intimidation over the people" Malik spoke calmly but the harshness in his tone had not left and Altiar noticed the way the Rafiq busied himself with organizing things rather than talking to him.

"Then I ask you...where might he be found?"Altair said softly; he was in no mood for a battle of wits with the other; he was tired and drained beyond all comprehension and to be honest he wanted to get through this as politely as he could.

"Have I taken a blow to the head?" Malik asked sounding surprised "You asked me for information! Allah above the world must be ending if your stooping yourself so low as to ask ME for anything" Malik bit out.

"..." Altiar said nothing as he felt that invisible weight in his shoulders get so much heavier "You are the Dai, Malik, if you do not see it fit to tell me, then I will make my own search" He said softly; respectfully.

It suddenly dawned on Malik that this was not the Altiar he knew, this was not the Altair who had first walked though the bureau doors after the incident at Solomon's temple, demoted but his head still held high, still proud, still arrogant and still unwise.

No, Altair was...meek, humble...too quiet, something was so off with the other and it unnerved him; and the longer he stared at Altair the more he noticed details like how baggy his robes were on the other and how gaunt his cheeks looked. Malik brushed off whatever concern he felt; what did he care, the man had denied him a brother and an arm and he would loathe him for years to come until his death...right?

Malik knew he could not hate his childhood friend forever and it was foolish to delude himself that he would, but right now, hate was all he had to cling onto after his brother was gone, the thought of his life without Kadar was just as painful as remembering good memories when Kadar was in it.

He looked up and noticed Altair was leaving "Wait, wait...since you requested my help I might as well tell you what I know; Majd is usually around in the poor area of the district, he is a cruel man and he likes to flex his grip over the city by punishing the citizens, I'm sure if you ask around and save a few people from his guards you will find the information you need" Malik said sharply "Now go, leave me in peace" He said as he waved him off.

Altair said nothing he nodded with a little bow of his head in respect, before he turned and left in a flutter of robes, he didn't even stop to rest after his long journey from Masayf. Malik let out a soft sigh as he felt all the rage and hate that Altair filled him with slowly dissipate, leaving him empty and heavy hearted. His worry for Altiar increased without him wanting it to; he had never thought about Altair, about how he was coping with his brothers death, in truth he was, quite rightly, more focused on his own grief and pain to worry about the man who played a hand in his murder.

But while Malik was grieving Altair seemed to...almost be suffering; he did not know whether it was by Al Mualim's hand or by Altair's own, but it worried Malik; despite everything he felt for Altair despite all the hatred he felt and even the urges to kill the other, he knew he never truly wanted the former master assassin dead.

Malik was a man of logic; killing Altair would not bring brother back, having Altair's blood on his hands would not lessen the grief or the pain, but it did little to lighten how he felt; emotions tended to override ones head; especially when you were in mourning as Malik was.

The Rafiq decided that it was none of his business whether Altiar suffered or not; if the other asked for help Malik would give it despite his feelings; the question is whether Altair would lower his pride to such a level as to ask or plead for help with something so personal.

It was almost dusk by the time Altair returned the bureau looking weary and tired "So you have returned" Malik said sharply without looking up; he made an effort to keep most of the hostility out of his voice but it was still there and it didn't go unheard.

"Yes I have found out the required information, Majd is personally performing executions and giving righteous speeches to the people and the criminals during them, and when he talks to the criminals, his back is to the crowd, I heard from a man whose son is due to be executed that he is going to perform a public execution at sunrise" Altair said softly. "That is when I will strike"

"Hmm and what makes you think you are ready for such things?" He asked, as he finally looked up form the map he was drawing to scrutinize the other.

"That is no longer up for me to decide, I am no longer an assassin free to make his own decisions, but I have done as I have been asked" Altiar said simply "The rest is up to you"

"...Hmph so your finally starting to learn novice, that rank is based on how one acts, not on the markings on ones robes...I'm almost impressed" Malik said softly before he produced the pure white feather, when Altair reached out to take the feather he pulled his hand back so I was out of his reach "I give you this on your word that you will rest beforehand, it is late and you have not stopped since you arrived; you'll get yourself killed if you don't prepare" Malik said. "Also, I have a favour to ask of you"

"What is it?" Altair asked; he was surprised at the others concern as heavily disguised as it may be but he was also grateful, perhaps Malik was starting to forgive him; the others words, at least gave him some semblance of hope.

"A brother, one of our own is due to be executed by Majd at sunrise, if your going to kill this man, do so before he kills our fellow assassin" He said softly before he held out the feather again letting the other take it "Now go, get out of my sight and rest, the night wont last forever" Malik grumbled.

Altair nodded tucking the feather away into his pouch before he headed back out to the alcove where an assortment of bedding and soft pillows awaited him, almost calling him to sleep, He sighed softly as he slowly began undoing his large belt that held his throwing knives the bracer's and the hidden blade and the sheathe that held his sword before he lay down in the soft pillows and settled down to sleep.

It didn't come easy for Altair at first but soon enough his body could not withstand it's needs any longer and his eyes drifted closed into an uneasy slumber. It wasn't long until he began groaning and twitching in his sleep, haunted by screams, he jerked awake wide eyes and panting "..." It was late it seemed he'd been asleep a couple of hours at least and he hadn't disturbed Malik who was no doubt still sleeping

Altiar flopped back onto the pillows and rubbed his eyes; Would this ever end? Would he be able to sleep without hearing voices? Would he be able to wake up happy and refreshed? Altair sighed softly; these questions could not be answered by him alone and he knew if he was to attain some semblance of peace, then he had to earn it.

Shifting, he rolled onto his side and let his eyes close once more, praying that just once he would have a peaceful dream.

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><p>Balrg I've been writing this on and off for a month usually when I've been feeling at my lowest and need to vent out my feelings on something, the victim this time being Altiar. You always see Malik's point of view about how he felt about Kadar's death but you don't see many fics focusing on what Altiar went through mentally...So here is me digging into his brain and tormenting him.<p>

Yes Altiar is angsty, but from what I can tell Kadar and Malik were his childhood friends you think he would be upset and feel remorse for the mistakes he made, but he would keep his own suffering to himself because he's too prideful to tell others about his problems, that's just the way I see Altiar personally.

Enjoy it if you can.


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